How to Save Your Ass
by Femslash08
Summary: The olive skinned girl on the stand breathed as evenly as she could. "And how do you know this?" the D.A. asked. "...I plead the 5th," came from the British student's lips. Then tears came from her eyes.
1. Pilot

Kate Bennett walked into her first class of the afternoon. She went down the stairs to the seating chart and found where she was. She sat down and was soon joined by a boy beside her as the door downstairs opened.

The Professor entered the classroom. "Good morning. I don't know what terrible things you've done in your life up to this point, but clearly your karma's out of balance to get assigned to my class. I'm Professor Annalise Keating, and this is criminal law 100. Or, as I prefer to call it..." She took a piece of chalk and started to write on the board. "How to get away with murder. Unlike many of my colleagues, I will not be teaching you how to study the law or theorize about it, but rather how to practice it... In a courtroom, like a real lawyer. Now to our first case study, the aspirin assassin." She took a remote, pointed at the screen behind her, and clicked, channging the slide. "Tell us the facts... Connor Walsh."

Connor stood. "The Commonwealth v. Gina Sadowski was a case of attempted murder. The defendant, Ms. Sadowski, worked as the second assistant to the victim, Arthur Kaufman, the CEO of an advertising agency. Ms. Sadowski was not only his assistant, though. She was also his mistress."

Professor Keating kept going without correcting him so he must've been right. "What happened after Mr. Kaufman's wife of 27 years, Agnes, found out about the affair?" She looked around, pointing to someone. "You."

A boy stood. "He ended the relationship and transferred her to the accounting department. That's when she allegedly switched one of his blood-pressure pills for an aspirin, which she knew he was allergic to."

"What occurred when Mr. Kaufman ingested the aspirin? Anyone?" Everyone raised their hands, except the boy beside Kate. Professor Keating didn't call on anyone.

A girl in the front stood, reporting, "Mr. Kaufman went into anaphylactic shock. His throat swelled and his brain was deprived of oxygen for 7 minutes before his first assistant was able to resuscitate him. Michaela Pratt," she introduced herself.

"So, we've established the _actus reus_. What was the _mens rea_?" Professor Keating checked her seating chart, looking for a random name. "Wesley Gibbins?"

Wesley stood up. "The... _mens rea_? Right." He flipped through his book for the definition.

"Day 1 and you're unprepared?" Keating asked.

"No. Well, um, yes, but I didn't know there was anything to prepare," Wesley stuttered.

"I e-mailed the assignment to the entire class two days ago," Keating stated.

"Oh. I... didn't get that," he said.

Keating started up the stairs and to the boy. "Mr. Gibbins, as a defense attorney, I spend most of my time around professional liars, so you have to work really hard to fool me."

Wesley sighed. "I only got accepted here two days ago... From the wait list," He ignored the laughter from around the room, "so that's probably why you didn't get my e-mail address."

"Let me help you out. "Actus reus" means "guilty act"... The poisoning of Mr. Kaufman with an aspirin... Whereas "mens rea" means "guilty mind." So what was Ms. Sadowski's mens rea?" When he was still clueless, she added, "Think, Mr. Gibbins. It's nothing more than common sense."

When he floundered, Kate pulled on his sleeve. He looked at her and she supplied, "Guilty mind also means intent. Whoever gave him that pill, what did they intend to do?" she explained softly.

"Oh!" Wes said as he realized. He was about to answer when someone else did.

"To kill," came from across the room.

"Will the individual who just spoke please stand and repeat the answer?" Keating asked, not moving.

A pretty brunette stood and elaborated, "The mens rea, also referred to as "intent," was to kill Mr. Kaufman."

Keating turned around. "That's right. Your name?"

"Laurel Castillo," the girl answered.

"Never take a learning opportunity away from another student," Keating scolded, "no matter how smart you need everyone to think you are. You." She looked at Kate, checking her chart. "Katherine Bennett?" she asked.

"Kate, please," Kate corrected.

"All right." She walked down the stairs, continuing, "Before we move on, are there any other questions?"

She got to the bottom of the stairs.

One boy raised his hand.

"Mr. Walsh," she called on him.

"I noticed that the verdict wasn't listed here. So I guess my question is, did she do it?" he asked.

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" She clicked the button again. "I lied. This isn't a past case but one I took last week after Gina fired her previous lawyer."

They were invited to her house, given the address, and class was dismissed.

As Kate stood, she placed her notebook into her shoulder bag. "Wesley," the British girl asked.

"Uh, just Wes," the boy corrected.

"Apologies. Just Wes, then, do you know where this home is? I'm new to town, you see," Kate elaborated.

"Oh, yeah. Just go down Main street and turn onto Bringham. The third stop sign on the left is Whitley," he explained.

"Thanks," she bade.

* * *

Ms. Sadoski was telling her story. "This one day, I walked into his office when I just screamed, real loud, 'cause Arthur was standing there behind the door." She laughed a little. "I thought he was gonna be pissed at me, yell, but instead he just started laughin'. So then I started laughin' and, well, um, that's when he kissed me for the first time and... Yeah, I became that girl. It was on my last day workin' for him when I came back from lunch and saw the paramedics. When I heard that Arthur was hurt... I loved him. I know that's hard to believe, but I loved him." Her voice cracked as she asked, "Why in the hell would I want to hurt him?"

* * *

Once she had left, Annalise told everyone. "The trial begins in two days, so tomorrow, each of you have one minute to present the best defense for this case. See if you can beat my current plan. Mr. Gibbins?"

"Yes?

You'll go last, an unenviable position seeing that no two students will be allowed to present the same idea. Use the resources in this office... Gina's discovery file-" she obviously liked to gesticulate a lot- "my library, the people who know me even better than myself... My associates."

A man broke through the crowd. "Name's Frank, and unlike every teacher you've had, I do believe there are stupid questions. So if you got 'em, please see my lovely colleague Bonnie."

The blonde woman, Bonnie, stood from the couch and walked over to Frank. "Or, better, you could come to us with answers. We'll like you much better that way."

"And one more thing. Every year I choose five students to come work for me. This assignment is used to help me decide who that is. The top student gets this." She walked over, grabbed, and lifted a statue of a woman holding a scale. "Consider this your immunity idol. The winner can turn this in at any point to get out of an exam. Now go. Find a defense that will free our client."

* * *

"We should offer the jury another suspect altogether... Mr. Kaufman's wife, Agnes. She was angry about the affair, had access to his office, and knew what aspirin looked like his blood-pressure pill. So what better way to get revenge than to kill your cheating husband and pin it on his mistress?" Michaela asked rhetorically.

The timer went off. "Thank you. Take a seat, Ms. Pratt. You've moved on to the next round. Who's next?" Keating asked.

Everyone raised their hands. Kate stood. The British girl just started talking, not waiting for someone else to be called on. "Make the witness stutter. Overwhelm them with questions until they don't know anymore. Discredit and offer someone better. Janitor who Mr. Kaufman was rude to; they're always so testy," she joked and was met with light laughter. "An assistant who is overdue for a promotion," she offered. "Or just an enemy. Everyone has them," she stated seriously. The timer buzzed.

"Take your seat," Professor Keating said with a small smirk. "You've moved on to the next round as well, next?" she asked.

Asher stood. "It all comes down to a simple piece of evidence... That the doctor "claims" he ran Mr. Kaufman's blood work too late to find any aspirin in his blood."

They went through almost all of the students before coming to the most pitiable student.

"Mr. Gibbins?" Annalise called.

The deer in the headlights stood and starting blow shit out his ass. "Right. So, the way I see it is... We say it was self-defense." Everyone laughed but he pushed through. "And we do that because, well, Gina was suffering from Stockholm syndrome, which is actually quite common in assistants with demanding bosses. The affair was just one example of how far Mr. Kaufman's brainwashing of Gina went. He made her fall in love with him. So in this way, her poisoning him was an act of self-defense." Students murmured amongst themselves. Kate smirked at him. When he realized his theory was stupid, he said slowly, "And I'll just go stand over there." He went to walk off to the side.

Kate put her feet up to block his exit.

"No," Keating protested, "Sit. Congratulations to those who managed to keep your seat. That said, none of you beat my approach - though someone did come close - which goes as follows. Step 1... discredit the witnesses. Step 2, introduce a new suspect. That person is Mr. Kaufman's jealous business partner, Lionel Bryant. Step 3, we bury the evidence. We throw so much information at the jury that they walk into the deliberation room with one overwhelming feeling... doubt. That's how you get away with murder. See you in the courthouse at 9:00." She started packing her briefcase to leave.

"Oh, um, Professor Keating! We have torts at 9:00 tomorrow, then property at 11:00, so I'm not sure-"

"The way you're whining right now makes me believe you think I'm your mother, Ms. Pratt," Keating responded, turning to face Michaela to scold her. "Show up tomorrow or drop out of the competition. It's that simple."

* * *

"I was his first assistant for 21 years, so to see him on his office floor like that, it was so awful. He wasn't breathing. And his skin kept getting more and more blue," Tanner explained. She turned to the wife. "I'm sorry, Agnes. I tried everything."

"You did everything you could, Ms. Tanner," the D.A. stated sympathetically.

"We just got screwed. Not in a good way," Asher whispered.

"You don't like Gina, do you? You would yell at her, calling her..." She took a sheet of paper from Bonnie ""Incompetent," "stupid," "podunk trailer trash"?" Keating asked once it was her turn.

"No. That's a..." She stopped as the door opened.

Michaela ran in and up to Professor Keating.

"Can I have a moment, Your Honor?" Professor Keating requested.

"Well, now we know who's the first to flame out," Connor whispered.

"Hurry it along, Ms. Keating," the Judge rushed.

Michaela gave something to Keating.

"What was that? Something they taught you in torts?" Asher asked.

"You should really pay attention. You might learn something," Michaela gloated.

Kate quirked an eyebrow, shifting which leg was crossed.

"Ms. Tanner, you testified that you saw a pill on my client's desk on the day of the accident, correct?" Keating asked, approaching the witness.

"Yes," Ms. Tanner replied.

"And you said it was a yellow pill, similar to prosecutor Williams' shirt?" Keating gave as an example.

Kate frowned. His shirt was blue...

"Yes."

The courtroom erupted in whispers.

"Prosecutor Williams' shirt is blue, Ms. Tanner. Are you color-blind?" Keating asked.

"Yes. But I know what I saw that morning."

"I see. So whether the pill that you saw on my client's desk was blue, like her anxiety medication she used to endure working under you, or yellow, like the aspirin used to poison Mr. Kaufman, is not something you can tell us?" Keating demanded.

"I told you... Gina was acting nervous, like..."

"It's a simple question. Is it possible that the pill that you saw on Gina's desk was her anxiety medication?" Keating cut her off.

"I guess so," Tanner consented.

Thank you for your candor.

On the way down the stairs, "I saw she was wearing glasses in one of her Facebook photos, which got me wondering about her eyesight, so I called every optometrist covered under her insurance, found hers, then pretended to be a claims provider to get the receptionist to admit she has a condition called achromatopsia. It causes color blindness. Step 1... discredit the witness.

I might as well hand you the trophy right now, Ms. Pratt. But I won't. Not until I see how the rest of you step up your game.

* * *

An e-mail was given to Annalise.

"It wasn't exactly legal, is the point," Connor was explaining why Annalise didn't need to know how he got the email.

Annalise smirked at him. "Then we just have to get creative. Bonnie!" She walked over to her blonde secretary.

With a new witness on the stand, Annalise interrogated, "Mr. Bryant, you and your business partner, Mr. Kaufman, had a meeting in his office on the morning of the accident, correct?"

"Yes," the man answered. "To discuss moving Gina to accounting."

"So to avoid any possible sexual-harassment lawsuit?" she asked for elaboration.

"That's correct."

Annalise retrieved the email. "Will you please read this e-mail that you wrote to Mr. Kaufman?"

_"Dear Arthur, consider this my official request that you step down as CEO. I've warned you about having sexual relations with employees of this company..."_

The Prosecutor stood, cutting the man off. Your honor, this e-mail was not part of the discovery file!" he exclaimed.

"Is this true?" the judge asked.

Annalise was a damn good liar as she stated, "I thought it was. Although my associate is more familiar with the paperwork on this case. Bonnie?"

"I found the e-mail in the files given to us by our client's previous attorney, Your Honor. I just assumed it was part of the discovery file," Bonnie declared, standing.

The Prosecutor had a stick up his ass and responded, "It wasn't, which means it was obviously obtained illegally."

The judge put the two cats in their corners. "Enough. Did you write this e-mail, Mr. Bryant?" she asked the witness.

"Yes," he answered honestly.

"Then I have to side with the defense here. The e-mail's admissible," the judge declared.

"Your Honor!" the D.A. tried to object.

"I've made my decision, Mr. Williams," the judge put her foot down.

"Mr. Bryant, as stated in the e-mail, you were angry at Mr. Kaufman for taking part in a sexual relationship with an employee," Annalise resumed her cross.

"I was frustrated, yes-" he tried to explain.

"So frustrated that perhaps you swapped his blood-pressure pill for an aspirin in order to gain sole ownership of the company?" she led.

"Objection!" the D.A. called.

"Withdrawn. No further questions." She walked back to her table.

* * *

Outside the courtroom, Annalise walked down the hall, handing Bonnie her bag. "We did well today, no doubt due to Mr. Walsh's hard work last night. I'll be at the Dean's cocktail party if you find anything before tomorrow."

"How'd you get that e-mail?" Michaela asked.

"Yeah, bro, for reals," Asher added.

"I don't kiss and tell," Connor stated sophisticatedly, following in Annalise's direction.

"What the hell does that mean?" Michaela demanded.

Wes smiled at Kate and Kate gave a light laugh.

* * *

At the party, they gathered around a Mr. Professor Keating. "First year is the worst, no doubt. Just put your head down, do the work, and try not to take it so seriously," Mr. Keating stated.

"Okay, no offense, man, but, obviously, you never went to law school. This place is a dogfight 24/7. And only the big dog get the bone," Asher joked. He changed his voice a lot.

"Fine. You're on to me. I'm a psychology Professor. But before you lose all respect for me, you should know that I work with the firm sometimes," Mr. Keating caved.

"And you? You are?" he asked about Wes who just joined the group.

"Wes. He's in your wife's class, too," Connor said.

"Ah. Sam." He shook Wes' hand. "How's it going so far? Has she gone full terrorist on you yet or no?" he asked.

They all laughed.

"I'm sorry. Who's your wife?" Wes asked.

"Professor Keating," Kate explained.

"There she is." Mrs. Keating walked over to them and shared a kiss with her husband. "Let me guess... your ears were burning?"

"Should they be?" Ms. Keating asked.

"Don't worry. I didn't spill any secrets. Well, not yet, at least." They all laughed.

"We're rushing him through his champagne," the British student joked. The other students laughed at her joke.

"Well, you haven't had any," Ms. Keating stated. "Let's get the ball rolling," she joked right back.

"That's quite alright. I don't drink."

"Ah, I have a student who likes to stay in control. Good on you. My class'll test it though," she warned.

Kate gave a cocky smirk to her, quirking an eyebrow.

"To first year," Sam toasted.

Wes excused himself to the restroom and Keating did too as well. Kate did soon as well. She stood outside the door. After a while, Wes left. Less than a minute later, Keating left the room. "Professor," Kate called softly.

Annalise turned to her. "What-" She pointed toward the restroom.

"If you sleep with a student, I don't care. It's not my business." She pulled her phone from from her clutch. The young Brit starting typing on it. "Ms. Sadowski bought asprin and it got caught on tape." She stepped into Annalise's personal space, showing the video of the video on it. It showed the mistress buying a box with a blurred brand name. Kate paused the video and zoomed in on the box. She used a tool on her phone to blur everything around it, but show the word soloxacore.

* * *

Prosecutor Williams asked the detective, "So, you got the footage from the convenience store when, Detective Gill?"

"It was two nights ago. Uh, th-the store owner had seen the defendant's picture on the news, so he went through his old surveillance tapes and just found this footage. Footage that I will now play for everyone." He hit play and it showed Ms. Sadowski buying a box of - get this - soloxacore. "There. The night before the murder attempt, Ms. Sadowski bought... What does it say on that label, Detective Gill?"

"Uh, uh, soloxacore. It's a brand of aspirin," the Detective explained.

Now that they'd gone through the Prosecution's witness list, "I'd like to call our first witness to the stand. Detective Nate Lahey."

"Who's that?" Laurel asked.

"No idea," Michaela responded.

The tall black man walked through the doors and went straight to the stand. Apparently, Kate's heads-up had given Annalise a chance to give the detective a heads-up.

"Where were you two nights ago, Detective?" Annalise asked.

"What?" Nate asked, obviously confused.

"Two nights ago, when Detective Gill acquired the video that supposedly incriminates my client... Weren't you supposed to be working at the precinct as his direct supervisor?"

"I was."

"And were you there? … Please answer the question, detective."

"No. I was not."

"Where were you, then? Home, perhaps?" She was leading, but no one knew where she was going so there was no objection. "Taking care of your wife? I hear she's recently been diagnosed with cancer."

"I was at a friend's," he said, like a tooth being pulled from his jaw.

Annalise held up her hands in mock surrender. "Okay. I only ask because there's something I find strange about the chain of custody on this video." She waved her arms around as she approached the witness box. At last minute, she changed direction, talking to the jury. "Detective Gill testified that he received the video from the store owner at 8:00 P.M." She turned and started walking back up the jury box. "But the logs say he didn't log it into custody until 2:09 A.M." She used the railing of the jury box to rest her arms. She faced the detective. "Don't you find that time gap odd?"

"Sometimes it takes us a while to log evidence into the computer."

Annalise rested her arms on the witness box, rubbing her arms along it. "Because you're all so busy? Visiting friends and such?" Annalise walked backwards. "Detective, in your 12 years working for the City of Philadelphia," she walked to the end of the jury box, "have you ever known them to alter video footage to help the prosecution get a conviction?"

Williams sat forward. "Objection!"

"Digitally altering aspirin labels, for example?" Annalise asked.

"Your honor!" Williams yelled.

"I'm simply asking Detective Lahey about his personal experience within his department," Keating explained to the judge.

"This is the last question I'll allow," the judge stated.

"Are you personally aware of any instances of doctored surveillance footage within your department?" Annalise reiterated.

"Yes."

The court erupted in whispers once more.

"I am."

Kate could just imagine the smile on Sadowski's face.

* * *

"The good people of Philadelphia saw justice prevail today. Ms. Sadowski was a victim here, scapegoated by a desperate, overworked DA's office. And as much as we hope the police find the real perpetrator of this act against Mr. Kaufman, Ms. Sadowski is and always has been innocent, and I am so happy the jury agreed," Keating said to the press.

"I want to _be_ her," Michaela murmured.

* * *

Annalise walked in the front of the classroom. "Now it's time to find out who will be joining us in our firm. First, the standout in the class and the one you should all make it your mission to destroy..." She held up the statue. "Come get your prize, Mr. Walsh. The other ones joining us will be... Asher Millstone."

Asher jumped up and did a little dance. "Yeah! Yes!"

"Michaela Pratt."

Michaela breathed, "Oh, thank God!"

"Kate Bennett!"

The side of Kate's lips quirked. A sinnfully gorgeous smirk now adorned her features.

"Laurel Castillo. And because our workload has grown, I decided to hire one more of you. And that one will be... Wes Gibbins." As the shock settled onto Wes' face, Kate nudged him. She nodded, giving him a smile.


	2. It's All Her Fault

Keating was lecturing on trust. "The question I'm asked most often as a defense attorney is whether I can tell if my clients are innocent or guilty. And my answer is always the same. I don't care. And it's not because I'm heartless, although that's up for debate, but because my clients, like all of us here in this room, lie. And that makes them unknowable. Take Ms. Bennett, here. Are you really who you say you are, or are there other sordid details that we're missing?" She smirked as she elaborated, "Criminal record, divorce, an actual skeleton in your closet?"

Kate smirked and leaned back. "I have secrets. Everyone does. But you'd never figure them out," the Brit said, smug.

Keating maintained her smirk, though curious. She turned back to the group. "So you say. Look around you. At the quiet girl you share notes with," Wes glanced at Kate who smirked to herself, "the cute guy you have a crush on, the gunner who talks too much in class, and ask yourselves, do you know who anyone really is? Your instincts better be good, or you'll find yourself choosing the wrong people to make a study group with, to sleep with, or even marry." Keating pressed her clicker and the tiny screen showed the picture of a woman. "Just ask Marjorie St. Vincent, heir to her family's billion-dollar department-store fortune until she was stabbed 16 times-" she clicked through pictures of the murder scene "-in the master bedroom of her Gladwyne Mansion. The alleged killer... Her husband, of course. Max St. Vincent."

They went to Max's mansion where they met the man himself.

"I met Marjorie in Paris," he explained as Max lead them through his home. "I was shopping for my daughter Eloise's fourth birthday. My wife had just passed. I needed something," he clicked his tongue, "special. When Marjorie saw me struggling to speak to the owner in French, well, from the minute she opened her mouth to translate, I knew this was the woman for me. And 20 years later, she's still the only woman who knew how to make me happy." They came to a stop and - after a pause - he turned to face them. "Well, as much as anybody can be happy in an institution as barbaric as a marriage. Don't you agree, Ms. Keating?"

"Let's keep it moving," Annalise deflected.

Max opened the door to reveal a blood splattered bedroom.

"I asked Max to preserve the crime scene until after the trial was over. You never know what forensic clues you'll find to help our case later."

"And the room needed some color, anyway," Max joked. He was a sociopath, Kate recognized then wrote down. She wrote everything she noticed in the room.

"Look around, take photos, be the fresh eyes we need to help this case," Annalise ordered.

Asher took a few pictures with his fancy, rich boy tablet.

Without looking at her notebook, Kate wrote everything the saw, the blood splatter, the mirror, the deer and elk heads, the sheets, and she put on a glove to open the nightstand.

"Is it time?" Max asked.

Upon seeing it cleared out, Kate closed it again.

"I think it is," Annalise replied.

Kate pulled the glove from her hand, stuffing it in the front pocket of her shoulder bag. She placed the notebook in as well, sensing a plot twist.

Max clapped. "I need a volunteer. Ladies?" he prompted, holding out his hands.

When neither of the other girls stepped forward, Kate slid her shoulder bag off her shoulder and placed it against the night stand. She stepped closer to the accused murderer.

Max took her hand. "Very well." He guided her closer to the bed and turned her to face him. "Now... On the bed." He gave a gentle shove which sent her onto the sheets. "The forensic report claims that Marjorie was in bed reading when I joined her with, uh" He looked in his empty hand and looked around. "... ah! Your pen, dear. Pen." Laurel gave him her pen which he demonstrated with. "The knife, which I hid, like this." He put it behind his back. He put a hand on the side of her face. "Then I pretended-" he hiked his leg over hers "-to initiate sexual relations." He leaned in close to her.

"Mr. St. Vincent, I regret to inform you, you're not my type," the British girl informed him.

"Ah! A Englishwoman! Anyway, just as we were about to kiss... I struck." He brought the pen forward and 'plunged' it into her shoulder.

Kate could hear the students gasping.

"But missed, hitting the carotid artery, which was now squirting like a loose fire hose," he gestured to the walls, "hence the walls, so then I struck again, number two." He used the pen to hit her in the sternum. "Hit here." He moved to straddle her. "Followed by number three, here. Number four, five, six, seven." He stopped counting and just kept stabbing. All the while, Kate kept a bored look on her face. Eventually, he delivered the final blow and said, "16." He sighed, staying where he was.

"Or you killed her because she stopped sleeping with you and you have some weird thing about fidelity. Because that," she gestured to him, "with the exertion and the panting and now you're winded... was not attractive." Kate pushed him to the side to get him off her.

Max laughed as he landed beside her. "Sheesh!" he exclaimed at the amount of effort that took.

"Or so that's the prosecution's theory," Keating interjected.

Theory?" Max laughed. "Good luck proving that, huh?"

Frank set down a crap load of binders. "The murder book, given to us by the prosecution with all the evidence they've gathered in Max's case. Go through it. Find the holes to help get our guy a "not guilty."," he ordered.

Once they had all dispersed, Annalise called, "Mr. Gibbons, my office... now." They both went into her office.

"What do we think is going on there?" Connor asked, picking up his binder.

"What do you mean?" Asher asked, walking over to his choice of spot on the couch.

"We all earned our spot here, right? But wait list?" Connor asked, sitting as well.

Laurel closed her eyes. "Don't call him that," she insisted.

"Maybe he's her secret baby, like she gave him up for adoption and he doesn't even know," Asher wondered.

"Because all black people are related?" Michaela challenged.

"What? No. I-I wasn't..." Asher badly attempted to defend himself.

"So, Asher, could Michaela and I be twins?" Kate asked, leaning over to Michaela. Michaela got right beside her too. They tilted their head the same way too.

"No! You look nothing alike."

"I'm glad we established that," the Brit ground out.

Connor redirected the conversation back to his topic of choice, "My point is, something is going on. Otherwise, why would he be here?" Connor sat down.

"Why are any of you here? That's the question I'm still asking myself," Bonnie said, popping up out of nowhere.

Kate leaned back. "I'm here because arguing is all I'm good at. Plus, I've had a lot of run-ins with the bobbies - that's the police for you dunderheads who don't know - so I wanted to know my rights. Then, I started wanting to understand them, then I was giving my meager amount of legal advice to my friends and family, and now I'm trying to defend others. Plus, the pay's great. I mean, have you seen this house?" she asked, turning in the wheel-y chair. Her phone - flip, if you can believe it, started ringing and she jumped up, pulling it from her pocket which it was clipped around. "_Buongiorno_!" Kate greeted.

"Is that Italian?" Connor whispered.

Kate waved him off. "_Mi chiamo Kate. Lavoro per un avvocato americano e ho motivo di credere che il nostro nuovo cliente abbia vissuto in Svizzera. Hai fatto un'autopsia a sua moglie._" She had an Italian accent when she said the name, "_Elizabeth Zims. Sì. Potresti inviarlo al nostro fax?" _She walked over to the fax machine where she looked at the tag._ "Uno - sette uno sette - quattro nove otto - tre sei quaranta sette." _After a few seconds with the woman on the other end talking, Kate continued with a perfect accent,_ "Grazie mille. Potresti essere chiamato a testimoniare. Sarò lì! Arrivederci e grazie ancora._" She closed her flip phone and tapped her finger on the fax machine.

"What do you got?" Annalise demanded. When had she re-entered the room?

"Oh, Max killed his first wife in Switzerland, but got acquitted. So I got in contact with the woman who did the autopsy on Elizabeth Sims and she's sending us - well, you - the report. There are a lot of inconsistencies." The fax machine lit up and Kate pressed the print button. "And Bonnie!" the once again British accented girl called. She turned around to see the blonde looking at her. "That's also why I'm here." She raised her eyebrows. "I kick arse." But Brits pronounced their 'r's as 'ah's so it sounded like ass with an 'ah'.

The Keating 6 minus Wesley were at the Keating home, researching and watching the news report on the Stangard case. "_Breaking news on the Lila Stangard murder here. Police just released the medical examiner's ruling that Ms. Stangard's death was indeed a homicide. This comes a week after she was discovered deceased in a water tank at her sorority house, Kappa Kappa Theta._"

"Want to know the best part about that? 'Cause corpses crap themselves. So the sorority girls were all drinking their friend's poop."

When everyone else groaned, Kate asked, "How is that the best part?"

Asher was about to answer when Wes walked in. "Hey, is Professor Keating in?"

"Shh," Michaela hushed, drawn to the TV.

Wes eventually turned to it as well and was drawn in.

"_No suspects have been announced, but we do know police spent the morning interviewing her boyfriend, Griffin O'Reilly, a star of the Middleton football team,_" the lady reported.

Annalise walked back into the "outer office". "Mr. Gibbons. Did you do what I asked?" she asked.

"Uh, yes," Wes answered, meeting her half way.

The rest of them were absorbed in the report and most didn't really care about Wesley.

"Dorsey. Jake Dorsey," the officer introduced himself.

"Really? So you're not officer Chad Mullens?" Annalise asked, looking at the report she had.

"Your honor, I'm not sure what Ms. Keating is insinuating here..." the prosecutor interjected.

"I'm not insinuating anything. I'm just reading from the supplemental arrest report, which says that officer Mullens found the hunting knife, not our witness here." She picked it up and carried the report to the witness. "Or am I misreading the name, officer Dorsey?" She set it down in front of him.

The officer picked up and turned around the paper. "Uh... no. Says officer Mullens," he replied. He set it back onto the table.

"An officer who I recently found out is under investigation for drinking on the job, which explains why your boss might want to keep his name off of the official arrest report, maybe even changing his name for yours." Annalise walked back to her table, taking the report with her.

"Your honor, can we take a recess?" the Prosecutor requested.

"After we get the knife thrown out, we attack the motive. Any thoughts?" Annalise asked, back at her house.

Laurel held up her pen. "I had one."

"Prosecution's going to use Marjorie's best friend to say that she wanted to divorce Max, which would have eliminated his inheritance per the prenup and thereby giving him motive to kill," Michaela cut Laurel off. "I looked into discrediting the friend, but I couldn't find anything just yet."

"Perhaps if you let Laurel speak, there could be a solution at the table, not another problem," the Britt hissed at Michaela.

"I can discredit the friend. Why don't I help?" Connor asked, glancing at Michaela.

Annalise stood in court, doing a cross on the best friend, using information Connor had given her. "Mrs. Taylor. You claim that your best friend Marjorie spoke to you about divorcing Max nearly a year ago."

"Yes."

"Even though you wrote the following toast at their anniversary party about two months ago." She walked over to her table and read the speech: ""I haven't seen two people more in love since the Captain and Maria performed their first dance in front of the Von trapp children." Doesn't sound like a couple about to divorce to me," she cast doubt.

"How in the hell do you find this crap?" Michaela asked Connor, leaning over slightly.

"You'll never know," Connor gloated.

Back at Annalise's house, said woman declared, "The alibi's next. Max claims he was out for a walk when the murder occurred, so we need a neighbor who saw him. Frank... Take who you need."

Frank pointed at Michaela and Asher. "You: prom queen, douche-face, with me."

"It was around 8:30 when I took out the trash that night," the neighbor testified. "Right after our nightly family dinner."

"And what did you see while you were outside?" Miss Keating asked.

"A man walking on the other side of the street," the neighbor explained.

"And did you recognize the man?"

"Well, it was very dark that night, but I think it's very possible that it was my neighbor, Mr. St. Vincent."

Outside the courtroom, Annalise declared swiftly, "The prosecution has rested, so the first witness to take the stand will be the medical examiner from Switzerland. I need someone to write up the prep questions."

Laurel, it seemed, was desperate to not be overlooked once again. She pushed to the front of the group. "I'll do it."

Annalise looked her up and down swiftly. "Frank's girl. Good. Have them on my desk by midnight. I'll meet you back at the house." And she swept from the room leaving only the sound of her heels.

"You've been hunting for approximately how many years, Mr. St. Vincent?" Miss Keating asked.

"Oh, practically my whole life," Max responded.

"So, you're experienced at slaughtering animals, then?" Annalise asked, walking back in the direction of her table.

"Yes, it's one of the first things my father taught me... How to be humane, to minimize suffering."

"And there are ways to ensure that?"

"Oh, yes. I could show you right now, if you like," Max offered.

"Please." Annalise gestured for Bonnie to go over to him.

The blonde pixie walked over in front of the stand. Max cleared his throat.

Max sat forward, tilting Bonnie's head. "First, you bend the neck like this so the chin is close to the chest. Then you put the knife here..." he used his finger as the knife.

"Ms. Keating. Please explain the relevance of this," the judge cut him off.

"It'll become apparent, your honor," Miss Keating promised.

The Judge sighed, turning to Max. "Continue."

"Once the knife is by the jugular, you slice..." he moved his hand to show the slicing, but it was slow so Kate couldn't understand why some people gasped. "In one swift motion, and then, well, it just becomes about waiting for the stillness," he sat back, allowing Bonnie to return to her seat, "which happens quite fast if you've done it correctly."

"And this technique... This very humane, painless way of killing an animal... Is that how you murdered your first wife?" Annalise didn't move as she asked the question.

There was even a tiny bit of amusement on his face as he stated, "Yes, that's correct."

Everyone in the seating area started talking except for the students. Kate showed no reaction to any of this.

The prosecutor and DA were called to approach the judge.

"How many years have you been a medical examiner, Ms. Stave?" Annalise asked the Swiss woman.

"13 years," Ms. Stave replied.

"And you've studied the autopsy reports of both Elizabeth sims and Marjorie St. Vincent."

"Yes."

"Can you describe the difference between the two murders?" Annalise requested.

"Well, at first blush, they look quite similar. But a more in-depth review of the reports indicates that the first murder, a laceration across the neck, was done by someone with a knowledge of anatomy. And the second murder? The numerous sharp injuries were messy, inaccurate. They hit bone. The killer clearly knew nothing about anatomy."

"Meaning the second killer probably did not have hunting experience."

"Definitely not. In fact, it is my expert opinion that there's no way that these two women were killed by the same person."

"The defense rests," Annalise stated before walking back to her table.

Annalise walked down the hall in the court house with Wes and she came to just outside their court room. "Laurel-" Said girl stood "-Speak up more. I like your ideas. And watch out for Mr. Gibbons. Miss Castillo, and Miss Bennett here. Quiet ones are usually the most dangerous." Once she was done, she walked back inside.

"What the hell just happened?" Michaela asked, following their professor.

They reentered the court room and everyone stood as the paper was handed to the bailiff then the judge.

"Have you reached a verdict?" the judge asked, putting on his glasses.

"We have, your honor. In the matter of commonwealth vs. St. Vincent, case number P1082971, we, the jury, find the defendant, Maxwell St. Vincent... Not guilty," the head juror declared.

The group left the room, DAs first, then Vincent, then the students.

"You got away with murder, you pig!" one man yelled, charging at Max.

The students had to fight to get to the front. A police officer held open the elevator doors as the students ran for a quick escape.

"Okay, I don't like this part," Michaela complained as she stepped into the elevator.

"Oh, come on, Michaela. They're saying our class' name."

"What?" Michaela asked.

Kate smirked over her shoulder. "They think we got away with murder!" She caught the smirking Annalise's eye and winked. "Not that hard considering Eloise did it."

"What?" Michaela repeated.

"I imagine you'll be saying that often in my presence."

"How long have you known?"

Kate shrugged. The bell rang and the doors opened. "Since I found out he had a daughter. And that he was a widower." She left the elevator. "And, of course, talking to the ME was helpful." Her heels clicked as she stuck to the walls of the court house to get to her car.

"Ok, you didn't flinch in that court room," Michaela began her interrogation once they were back at Annalise's house. They had to pack everything up, now.

"Your observation skills are astute as always, Michaela," the British girl sniped.

"How come?"

"My uncle is a hunter. I'm used to gore and I enjoy deer jerky." She placed a pile of files in a cardboard box.

"Rich people's hobbies," Connor commented.

"We're not rich. We simply know how we'd like to spend our lives. We're aware of how short life is and we enjoy what we've got." Kate rolled her shoulders in a shrug. She walked toward the basement where they kept all the solved case files. She walked past Bonnie's desk in the process. She had only reached the middle of the pile.

She picked up another file and saw the note on the file below it. _'Congrats!'_ it read. _'These files have been completed.'_ Bonnie pulled up the post-it. _'Feel free to double check!'_ She pulled up that one too and it had a phone number on it. _'Text only, please...'_ Then it had a winky face drawn on.

This all happened in a few seconds and by the time Bonnie looked up, Kate was walking back up the stairs from the basement.


End file.
